Ever After
by Myrielle
Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all…
1. Sephiroth

_Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more._

_Author's Notes: Although I have watched Advent Children and thought it utterly mind-blowing, I must admit I was a little disappointed that once again Sephiroth was the main villain. That therefore, explains this little fic; someone has to give the man a life right? For some odd reason, I think Sephiroth and Tifa would make a great couple and I'm not the only one it seems. _

_Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)_

_Genre: Romance/Drama_

_Pairing: Sephiroth and Tifa._

**Ever After**

_I. Sephiroth_

He was floating, his mind shattered in pieces as he drifted down a warm current. All around he could hear them, unintelligible but audible. Animated whispers, soothing whispers… Something warm touched his face and the once great general groaned. It was not so much a thought as it was a yearning for the mother whom he had never known, whom he had loved and who had brought him thus low.

The warmth continued to flow, spreading slowly downward. Helpless to move, all he could do was remain still. Strangely enough, especially for a man of his nature, it felt comforting instead of threatening.

Darkness gave way to the brightest of lights. He had not been aware that his eyes were opened. And in the lights were beings, vaguely human in size and shape but too transparent for the eye to properly behold. They stood over him, looking down at him with their soft chattering whispers filling his senses.

_Cetra...?_

A translucent hand brushed over his lids, closing unnaturally brilliant green eyes. Sephiroth, the misguided tormented being who had tried to destroy a world, fell into a deep sleep and knew no more of what happened to him.

* * *

Tifa Lockheart scrubbed hard at the counter, oblivious to the fact that barring some scratches and a deep gash in it, courtesy of some brawlers whose behinds she had kicked right out of 7th Heaven, it was perfectly clean and shiny. Perhaps what she was trying to scrub instead was the inescapable yearning, the idea that Cloud would one day come walking through those doors, she thought with a resignation tinged with bitterness. 

Two years ago they had defeated the megalomaniac Sephiroth, unleashing Holy. As they had stood on the deck of Cid's ship, praying that the planet would somehow save itself, a miracle had happened. Luminescent strands and waves began soaring from the planet's surface, dancing, racing to intercept the crimson Meteor that had been summoned.

In the end, the planet had prevailed. Meteor had been enveloped in blinding folds of Lifestream and in the end had been extinguished, every last part of it vanishing completely. Shinra had initiated a search but not one fragment of Meteor had been found.

And most importantly, the planet had decided that the human race would survive. So here she was, at the cusp of a new beginning. Alone.

In utter frustration with herself, Tifa flung down the rag, listening to the loud smack of the wet cloth against wood and wondering whom she would like to slap more: Cloud or herself. Initially she had thought that it was possible to begin something new with him. Aerith, whom she mourned bitterly, was gone and Cloud had come to accept that. They had nobody, aside from AVALANCHE and their friends, and life had to go on. She and Cloud had returned to Midgar, setting up the bar and moving into the apartment above it.

Cloud had no disagreement with moving on. Except that he had made it clear he wanted to be alone. Whether it was his failure at saving Aerith, or his fear of losing another woman he could love, Tifa would never know. What she did know however was that in spite of the tender moments and the warmth of their friendship, Cloud had put up a barrier that she could not get through, try as she might. There came a point in the last year when things became so tensed and strained, she from wanting more and he from refusing to give it, that it had affected their friendship.

She never heard him leave, never heard the low rumble of Fenrir as he drove off in the night. All she had left was a letter and a mountain of recriminations that she heaped on herself until Barret came by and knocked some sense into her. During that year she had lived with him and Marlene, slowly piecing her heart and life back together. She learned that it was possible to smile and laugh without Cloud around. Life had to go on.

"Perhaps I should move back in," Tifa murmured as she put away the rag and bucket, feeling the slight soreness in her muscles. She missed having company. The nights were too quiet; she had too much time by herself. At the same time she didn't want to get in Barret's way, especially now that he had struck up a very nice friendship with one of his neighbours. Yuffie had very nicely offered to have Tifa over at Wutai when she had learnt of Cloud's disappearance but she had demurred. Tifa did not want anyone's sympathy or pity.

"So you should just bloody well stop drowning in your own." The sound of that firm decisive voice coming from her was welcome. It didn't sound as hollow as before. With an energy that she didn't really possess, Tifa closed up the bar, switched off the lights and bounded upstairs.

Running herself a bath, she stripped off her clothes, dropping them in a pile on the tiled floor before slipping gratefully into the hot water. Leaning her head, she closed her eyes and let out a huge sigh. One day down, tomorrow was another to go.

* * *

With a start Tifa awoke. "What the..." She stared at the hard dusty ground in utter disbelief. She had taken some hard knocks to the head in the course of her many battles but none so hard that they had affected her brain. The last she remembered, she was in the shower. Cinnamon eyes widened and her eyes flew down the length of her body but to her relief, she was dressed. Above her, a multitude of stars twinkled through a thick layer of swollen grey clouds and in the background loomed the silhouette of Midgar. From here it was easy to tell which parts had been abandoned and which were occupied; the deserted section was dark, silent and downright forbidding. 

Shivering in the cold night air, Tifa got to her feet, hands rubbing her arms rapidly even as goosebumps exploded on her chilled skin. She had never sleepwalked before in her entire life and to assume that she had done just that, and walked not only out of her room but to the distant outskirts of the city, was unbelievable.

"Oh great," she groaned as she searched her pockets. To her dismay, her gloves and materia were not on her. And to be alone in a place like this, and at such an hour, and unarmed to boot, was extremely bad news. The optimist in her thought that she would be able to make it back, although she may have some nasty wounds. The pessimist intoned that it would be months before Barret tracked down her body, if there was a body left once the monsters were done with it.

_'And here they come'_, she noted grimly as a shadow stirred in the dark. Should she run or fight? Adrenaline rushed through her body, sent her heart slamming against her ribs even as she slipped into a fighting stance. If it was one of the heavier creatures, she could make a break for it. If not, she would have to stand her ground because turning her back on a monster built for speed was tantamount to suicide.

The sound of feet sliding through the sand made her hair stand. Whatever it was, it was taking its time. And then the clouds parted and starlight showed her enemy. If he had come at her with his sword, she could not have moved to save her life. Fear, all paralyzing, mind-numbing fear rooted her to the spot and her mouth opened in a silent scream that she heard only in her head.

Silver hair spun in the wind like a ghostly halo and green mako eyes, shining so brightly in the dim light, fixed on her. Tifa trembled even as she shook her head in denial. He was dead, he had to be. She had seen him, seen him break into a thousand pieces, had heard Cloud say with a finality that brooked no argument that he had vanquished Sephiroth's spirit. Was it a ghost? Half hysterical at seeing the man who had brought a planet to its knees, Tifa was almost willing to seize on that explanation. Cloud had seen visions of Aerith in the church. Why couldn't this be a phantom of Sephiroth?

Except that phantoms did not call out the names of their enemies. "Lockheart..."

His ragged whisper cut through the swirl of emotions that bound her. Slender brows met as an expression of almost ferocious determination and rage formed on Tifa's face. She was not an inexperienced greenhorn; she was a seasoned warrior and she had killed before. There was no way she was going to just stand by and see Sephiroth unleashed on the world again.

Flying forward so quickly that her boots barely touched the ground, she sent her clenched fist crashing into the side of his face. There was the satisfying feel of her knuckles crunching into bone and flesh as he toppled back, dragging his sword with him. Cursing herself for not tackling his weapon arm first, Tifa pivoted and kicked, her boot connecting soundly with his wrist. The Masamune arced through the air and landed on the ground where it gleamed long and menacing under the stars but ultimately useless.

What followed next was a barrage of lightning blows and kicks that Tifa rained on Sephiroth. Driven by twin emotions of fear and anger, it never occurred to her that her invincible nemesis was having a hard time dodging her blows, let alone hitting back. Her only thought was to kill him, disable him before he inevitably struck.

Within five seconds Sephiroth realised that Tifa Lockheart was going to beat him to death and he could not really blame her, considering that he was the man who had burnt down her town and killed her father and friends. But that didn't mean he was going to accept death after having been brought back from it.

Even in his current state Sephiroth was still a formidable opponent and Tifa had been lucky that he had been disoriented, just having woken up to discover that he had been horribly weakened and for some reason, the Cetra had chosen to deposit him near Midgar. And seeing the pretty brunette there, shivering in the dark, had not done anything to lessen his confusion. But now survival instincts and years of warrior training kicked in.

Even as Tifa struck for the vulnerable part of his throat, Sephiroth twisted, dodging her blow. His hand clamped down on her right wrist like a vice. With admirable speed, she brought her left elbow forward and if he had been any slower she might have smashed his temple in. As it was, she got off a glancing blow that hurt like hell but he managed to block most of it. Sweeping his leg under her ankles before she could react, Sephiroth floored her.

Tifa let out a grunt of pain as she hit the ground, jagged bits of stone and coarse sand digging into her back. She tried to flip herself back up but Sephiroth moved faster. She had thought he would have gone for his sword but instead he flung himself on top of her, pinning her with his superior body weight. 'That cloak and armour must weigh more than I thought,' the inane thought flitted through her mind as she struggled frantically to throw him off. Within seconds her legs were pinned down, as were her hands and she found herself trapped with her worst nightmare atop her. Silky white strands fell across her face even as she grimaced, refusing to meet his eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched, angry and futile signs of her helplessness. She wondered if he knew how frightened she really was.

He could smell her fear, could have smelt it a mile off but in her eyes burned another emotion, the one that had driven her to confront him instead of running. It might have been foolhardiness or courage, maybe both. For a moment his mind went back to that moment when seven years ago, a fifteen-year-old had taken his own sword to him. She was still that same girl.

She had steeled herself for the fatal blow, for the taunting words that must surely come. Instead, he suddenly rolled off her. Air rushed back into her lungs and Tifa lay there frozen. Had he just released her?

"Are you just going to lie there, Lockheart?" a sardonic voice questioned. It kicked her into action and she bolted to her feet, retreating a few metres. But he remained where he was, seated on the ground, looking up at her with faint amusement. As ridiculous as it was, Tifa suddenly felt like a recalcitrant child under that unwavering green gaze.

A harsh cough racked him and he turned away, white hair obscuring him from her view as he spat out what she knew to be blood. The crimson stain that he brushed away from the corner of his mouth with leather-covered fingers confirmed it. His lip was split, she noticed and bruises were forming against his fair skin. Sephiroth was hurt. That knowledge was still astounding. In her mind Sephiroth had always been that towering, menacing figure. It had been a team effort of enormous proportions to bring him down and the fact that she had hurt him was more shocking than flattering.

Lockheart continued to stare at him with those enormous eyes, every part of her radiating suspicion. At least she hadn't attacked him again. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, sounding weary even to his own ears. Gods but that woman had some moves. He ached in places that he didn't know he had. Even a tussle with two fire dragons when he had been just a young member of SOLDIER hadn't felt as bad.

She didn't say anything but the slight scornful curl of her lip said it all. Fine then, if words didn't work, actions would. Besides, the last thing he had on his mind was going another round with the brunette. As it was, the world had just stopped spinning. Carefully and slowly, Sephiroth got to his feet. He took one step towards his Masamune only to have her dash past him and snatch it up.

Tifa clutched the sword in her hand, feeling the grooves of the hilt even as her fingers wrapped around it. Seven years ago she had attacked him with this same sword and he had left his mark on her. She could do it again, and this time Tifa was sure she would succeed. Whatever had happened to him, it had left him very weak and although he had bested her earlier, she knew that with her speed and stamina, she could wear him down. And then she could put the blade where it belonged: in his heart_. 'If he has one, that is.'_ It wasn't like her to get sarcastic but it wasn't every day that one faced a resurrected would-be destroyer of the world.

"You could do it, but you won't." He kept his voice calm and firm; it was the kind of tone a General used with a hysterical young recruit.

"What makes you think that?" Tifa bit out.

Emotions warred within her, passed fleetingly over her face. "Because I let you go. In the past I would not have. But things are different now."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I could have snapped your neck just now and we both know it."

Tifa ground her teeth in silent frustration, knowing that he had her there. He had let her go; she could not strike him down in cold blood. Besides, he did seem different. He could have killed her; he had never hesitated before in any attempt to do so.

"What are you doing here?" she asked finally.

There was a spell of stark silence before he finally replied. "I don't know." And that was the truth. All he recalled was the blinding white light, the soft touch of a hand and falling into what he had thought would be eternal slumber. He knew who had revived him; he just didn't know why. Somehow though, he felt like himself again, the man he had been before the horror and madness of his origins had driven him over the edge, before the touch of Jenova had invaded his mind.

Silence fell again. Tifa just stood there, unwilling to make the first move and unsure of what to do. She wanted nothing more than to go home, wake up in bed and find out that this was nothing more than a bad dream. On the other hand, she knew that Sephiroth really was here and she didn't want him to take off into the unknown. For all she knew he would make a beeline for the North Crater and resurrect Jenova or something like that although Reeve and Rufus had made a thorough search of the crater and reported that nothing had been found. The crater was completely empty, void of monsters in fact and half filled with collapsed rock and rubble. Still, the thought of him running around out there was unnerving.

Whatever Lockheart had in her mind, he for one was not going to stand out here in the wretched cold. The slums of Midgar seemed more welcoming than this harsh barren desert. Without a second glance at the woman who had stolen his sword, Sephiroth started walking in the direction of the city.

"Wh-where are you going?" Tifa sputtered.

"To the city, where else? I don't know about you or your inclinations but I am not going to spend the night out here with the cold and the monsters. I'm going to Midgar," Sephiroth said in a cold dignified tone. All of which was spoilt when he slipped and went down on one knee, slamming one hand onto the ground to keep himself from completely collapsing.

Whatever it was, she was quite sure that the man was not pretending. Evil maniacs were nothing if not arrogant and Sephiroth would never put on this show of weakness, regardless of his intentions. She took a step towards him, wondering if she was going to have to help him back to the city when she noticed that several pairs of red eyes had appeared out of the gloom. And they were coming closer.

"Wonderful," she heard Sephiroth swear under his breath. "My sword," he ordered, holding out his hand to her. Still Tifa hesitated.

"Miss Lockheart, if you do not hand me my sword, we are going to become food for these beasts. You are not armed, have no materia and I'm barely standing on my feet. If we are to make it back to the city, I suggest you do as I say."

The shadowy shapes were rapidly becoming more solid as the monsters closed in on them. Ignoring her brain that screamed against putting his sword back in his hand, Tifa tossed it at him and Sephiroth plucked it clean out of the air. Seconds later, one of the monsters leapt forward, fangs bared and dripping thick white saliva as it snapped at him only to have the tip of the Masamune slice through its throat.

Tifa's last thought on the matter was that it was a complete and total irony that she was actually fighting side by side with the man who had taken everything from her. And then there was no more time to think as she was embroiled in a battle for her life.


	2. Ghost of the Past

_Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more._

_Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)_

_Genre: Romance/Drama_

_Pairing: Sephiroth and Tifa._

**Ever After**

_II. Ghost of the Past_

Usually Tifa looked forward to mornings. There was something about a brand new day that sparked off just that much optimism in her. This morning though, Tifa was having a hard time opening her eyes. Just lying still hurt. Her nose wrinkled as the smell of caked dirt and blood registered. She must have fallen into bed immediately and judging from the brightness behind her lids, the sun was definitely up.

Remnants of the previous night's events flashed in her mind as she tried to motivate herself to rise. Sephiroth wielding Masamune, silver hair and blade flashing as he cut through monsters like confetti. Her feeling of panic as he was stabbed through the shoulder by razor sharp claws. Pain from the blows and cuts inflicted on her. They had made it to the gates of Midgar when he finally collapsed. She had almost fallen over while catching him and in spite of her vigorous shaking, Sephiroth remained firmly unconscious. It had been a miracle that she had managed to drag the both of them to her place.

With a muffled groan, Tifa finally pried her eyes open and the first sight which greeted her was of a bloodstained Masamune lying next to her, her hand still clutching it. 'I must've been more tired than I thought.' It was the first time she had gone to bed with a weapon in hand. Last night had been a night of many firsts.

'Sephiroth'. She had to check on him. Ignoring the agony of stiff protesting muscles, Tifa pulled herself up and shoved the sword under her bed. Slowly she made her way to the other room. There were three in all, hers, the one that been Cloud's and the guestroom. She had dumped Sephiroth in the last one. It would have been wrong on so many levels to let him sleep in Cloud's bed.

He lay in an almost foetal position, curled on his side with his black cloak surrounding him like a protective shield. Silvery hair fanned over his cheek but even the serenity of sleep could not erase the apprehension she felt while watching him. There were many questions that needed answering. Aside from the obvious ones, there was another that troubled Tifa deeply. 'Should I tell the others?' she wondered. She basically knew that whatever Barret and Cid would suggest would involve large amounts of torture and slow, painful death. Probably Yuffie too, especially since her grudge with Sephiroth went beyond to Wutai's war with Shinra. And speaking of Shinra... There was a good chance that they would come knocking on her door to take him away. Rufus would want him dead; the current president knew too well how dangerous Sephiroth could be.

_'And why should I stop them anyway?' _Tifa wondered silently.

His eyes opened and Tifa found herself staring into depths of green that were impenetrable. Like Cloud's, his eyes gave nothing away. _'Mako eyes.' _

"You look troubled."

His voice, raspy and low in the morning sent a shiver down her spine. "You are trouble," Tifa told him curtly before retreating from the room. Minutes later she came back with a small bottle in her hand. "Drink this." And then she left again.

It occurred briefly to Sephiroth that she might poison him but he dismissed the thought instantaneously. Lockheart wasn't that kind of person and she had had plenty of chances to kill him in his sleep. Downing the clear tasteless potion, Sephiroth placed the bottle on the small side table next to the bed before closing his eyes again. He needed sleep to recover. And to dream. For in his dreams the faceless transparent beings came again. Perhaps they would give him the answers he sought.

* * *

Tifa looked at the sign once again before hanging it up on the door. For once she had a perfectly legitimate reason to use it. 

As the first of her customers came strolling by, he gawked in surprise. "Since when does 7th Heaven close for the week?" he muttered in bewilderment.

* * *

Sephiroth slept for two days. Occasionally he would wake when she came in to check on him and she would make him drink potions to speed up his recovery process. It did down on Tifa that she could simply use her Cure materia on him but the thought of Sephiroth and materia in the same room was too troubling. Within those two days, Tifa had taken out Premium Heart, slotted in only her Neo Bahamut summon materia and had begun wearing her Ribbon again. The rest of her materia she had hidden in a secret basement along with the Masamune. 

So far Sephiroth had been harmless or at least non-threatening but Tifa was prepared for that to change. Perhaps Sephiroth was back but his mind was shattered. He could be insane, she had reasoned, not that he wasn't before but just not in this fashion. It was always best to be ready. Besides they were in town now. Even if he did run rampage through the place the others would hear of it and track him down. So would she, if she could survive that type of encounter.

* * *

Sephiroth was awake before he opened his eyes. Unfortunately, he had awoken as confused and clueless as when he had fallen asleep. The Cetra had been in his dreams but as always, they had chattered much and said nothing. He could not understand them. _'Why can I not comprehend what they are saying?'_ He was a son of Jenova, one of the last Cetra who had stood against the previous crisis the planet had suffered— 

"_...Once the planet is hurt, it gathers Spirit Energy to heal the injury. The amount of energy gathered depends on the size of the injury. What would happen if there was an injury that  
threatened the very life of the planet? Think how much energy would be  
gathered! Ha! Ha! Ha!..."_

A streak of cold horror shot through Sephiroth. Suddenly the room was filled with the sound of his voice, his mad laughter. Were those words...his?

"No," he whispered vehemently, eyes hard with denial even as his mind acknowledged that it was indeed his. A gloved hand crept to his throbbing head. The laughter grew louder.

"Are you alright?"

At the sound of Tifa's voice, silence returned. The pain in his head eased, much to his relief. But he remained shaken. Still, this was neither the time nor place to reveal any of what he had heard to Lockheart. _'She probably remembers it all too well. As do I now...and yet...' _He knew he had spoken those words, he recalled being in the Temple of the Ancients, but at the same time, there was a strange disembodied quality, as if he had been there and yet not fully there. But he had wanted to hurt the planet, it had been him. Or was it?

"Sephiroth!"

Even though he was her mortal enemy, Tifa still felt considerably alarmed that he hadn't eaten anything aside from potions for the past forty-eight hours. She had come up to check on him and was just entering the doorway when she saw him quiver and clutch his head. He had muttered something but it was too soft to be heard. Her mind flashed back to the past, to the times when Cloud had seemed to go into a trance, the way he would clutch his head and mutter to himself. Unconsciously, her hand, encased in Premium Heart, curled into a fist.

This was no time to indulge in his thoughts; he could examine them later. Sensing Lockheart's nervousness, he sat up, keeping his movements slow so as not to alarm her. "I'm alright," he said almost curtly. Looking around, he realised what was missing. "Where's my sword?"

It would be useless and rather stupid to deny that she had taken it. "I've put it somewhere safe."

The corner of his mouth lifted as the shadow of a wry smile touched his lips. "I do hope you realise that my Masamune is hardly the source of my powers. It is a weapon, not the key upon which my victory stands."

"In other words, you mean that you can still kick my ass even though you're weaponless," Tifa stated flatly.

"I am glad that we understand each other so well Miss Lockheart." She bristled and he widened his smile deliberately. She bristled more. The woman was too easy to tease, rising to the bait as expected. Tifa Lockheart could be all smiles and soft big brown eyes a man could drown in but Sephiroth was quite willing to bet that none of her friends, especially Strife, had seen her glare and scowl in such a manner.

Usually it took a lot to rattle her but Sephiroth was getting under her skin and he had been barely awake for more than five minutes. When she had first met him in Nibelheim, he had seemed so cold and aloof, the consummate professional. She had nursed the biggest crush on him then and had sought out opportunities to speak with him, about Midgar, SOLDIER, anything. She was quite sure he knew, how could he not have known when the entire town had, but he had indulged her as long as his duties for the day had been carried out. Back then, she had suspected that a rather warm person lay hidden behind an icy veneer. Until he had killed her father.

She watched as Sephiroth peel back the bandage she had put over the injury to his shoulder. It was the most serious of the lot. She had removed his cloak and the armour he wore on his shoulders, trying to remain as detached as possible as she had dressed his wounds.

"Thank you."

"I don't want your thanks Sephiroth."

They both knew she was not being rude.

With one hand rubbing her arm, a habit she had developed whenever she felt awkward, Tifa decided that it was now or never. Besides, he owed her. "What's going on?" she asked abruptly. "You're supposed to be dead."

Clearly someone wasn't happy to see him alive and well, in spite of the fact that she had helped with that last part.

"I did die. But apparently there are some who disagree with that and therefore, here I am."

In spite of his deadpan tone and expression, Tifa could practically feel the sarcasm rising from the silver-haired man who was still seated on her bed. "Who are those some? Was it..." she felt dread rise in her mouth, constricting her chest and fought to keep her voice even. "Was it Jenova?"

That had been a question that had been nagging away at the back of his mind. Had it been his mother? Turning towards the window so that Lockheart couldn't see his face, Sephiroth stared out into the street below. There were people dressed in nondescript blue, brown and grey clothing. It looked like the uniform of the average Midgar citizen. What a change from the wealth and influence Midgar had once had. Meteor and Weapon must have changed all that.

"I'm not sure. But I know that they are Cetra. My mother's people decided that I must live after all."

Tifa actually felt her stomach twist in nauseous coils to hear Jenova being called one of the Cetra. It was an insidious lie that had propelled Sephiroth down his chosen path of madness. It was a blasphemous one lie that was an insult to the memory of a lovely flower girl and her ancestry. "That can't be true. How can that be when you _killed_ the last real Cetra?" That last part came out in a heartbroken venomous hiss. "Aerith was the only Cetra. Not you. Not that monster Jenova."

Only the cold control in his tone gave away the anger he felt. "You should not speak of things you know nothing about. My mother—"

"Was a liar and a murderer! She almost got you to kill this planet! Is that what Cetra do? Kill planets and take their life force to become gods?" Tifa knew she was shouting but she didn't care.

Her words hit him harder than her fists had. Mentally, she left him reeling. It was as though she had peered into his thoughts and torn open his doubts. "You...your kind, you stole the planet..."

She didn't know if humans really were the descendents of cowardly Cetra but that was hardly the point of contention here. "I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know this. Cetra don't destroy the planet. Aerith didn't hate humans, she tried to help. Whoever had the planet was not important to her; what was important w-was saving it." To her dismay, Tifa felt the familiar burn of tears at the back of her eyes.

The throbbing had returned. As much as he wanted to deny her words, to defend himself and his mother, Sephiroth could not. _'Mother...' _

Silence greeted his call. Usually Jenova was only a step away, a mind within his mind; he carried her with him, in his cells, in his blood and heart. But this time, there was no response, only an emptiness that resonated within his being.

'_...Sephiroth...' _

His eyes widened...that voice...and in the reflection of the mirror, Sephiroth looked up to see a familiar girl, clad in pink with ribbons in her hair and light in her eyes standing next to Tifa. Only Tifa was completely unaware of her presence.

It was Aerith. Or rather, her ghost.

* * *

A/N: I certainly hope I haven't got anything wrong here. Although I did complete the game several times, it has been a while and apparently my PS2 will not play my PS games. Cripes. In any case, please do correct me if I have any of my facts mixed up. If memory serves me right, humans are the descendents of Cetra who decided to abandon the search for the Promised Land and settled on the planet. 

A very big thank you to all who reviewed: Spatial, dragonfly63126, Pandora, Teef Lockheart, Metsudo and especially to CWolf2 and Lucian's Angel87 for taking time to point out what aspects of the story worked. I appreciate constructive and intelligent criticism; it helps me work on my writing.

To DarkValentine, thank you for the encouragement and support! Like you, I do hope to do justice to Sephiroth's character; there's so much to explore and develop.


	3. Truce?

Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more.

Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)

Genre: Romance/Drama

**EVER AFTER**

**III. Truce?**

Tifa sat at the bar's countertop, staring fully into the distance. Occasionally, she absently rubbed her left arm. If there had been anywhere else she could have gone to, she would have. Given his past track record, Sephiroth wasn't someone she wanted to leave at home unsupervised but when the man could kill you with one arm tied behind his back with no weapon, really, what good would supervising him do anyway?

Except that she had a veritable treasure trove of material and combat gloves in her basement, along with his Masamune. And more importantly, there wasn't anywhere else she could go. Around Barret and Marlene, she was happy but at times, she had to conceal her gloom, especially around the little girl. Yuffie had no inkling of how to handle Cloud's absence except for hotly insisting that the spiky blond would eventually return. Besides, she and her father were busy trying to rebuild Wutai into the kingdom it once was. Cid had Shera and they were expecting twin bundles of joy. Vincent didn't need anyone. The list went on but one thing was woefully clear: they had something to do or someone of their own. On that list, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She might have continued to sink into that pool of melancholy she rarely indulged in if not for the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. A panicked glance at the windows showed that even though most people had seen the 'closed' sign and stayed away, the screens were not down and a casual glance in the direction of the bar would lead to a sighting of the most feared man on Gaia. And that she did not want at all. Springing nimbly to her feet, she charged up the stairs. "No, get back up there," she hissed, and without thinking, stretched out her arms and began pushing him back.

"Lockhart," Sephiroth exclaimed in exasperation as she pushed him back so quickly that he almost stumbled. "Stop that," he said firmly, reaching for her wrists and plucking them easily off his chest. "I think I'm capable of getting back up the stairs without your assistance. I might have more success that way actually."

Had he just made a joke? Blinking at him, Tifa opened her mouth to speak, realised she didn't really have anything to say and snatched on the first thing that occurred to her. "You're still holding on to my hands."

Her wrists were small, delicate compared to his. It took quite a stretch of imagination to even think of her as a fighter, let alone a formidable one. But then again, he had had some trouble accepting the fact that at fifteen and not even close to reaching the top of his shoulder, she was the best guide through the treacherous mountains of Nibelheim. Tifa Lockheart had always surprised him.

Mako green eyes, intense and unreadable, gazed down at her and Tifa swallowed hard, her heartbeat quickening. "Sephiroth?" It felt strange just mentioning his name, let alone speaking it to the man himself. "Um, let go?"

This time her words registered and he quickly released her. "I was looking for you," he said, "That's why I was…" He motioned at the stairs which they were now rapidly ascending.

"I didn't draw the screens. People would have seen you and then all hell would have broken loose. I don't need Rufus Shinra and the Turks beating down my door to get to you."

Sephiroth stopped at the top step, turning to look at her. "So you wouldn't hand me over?"

Stunned, Tifa stared at him, feet frozen. That wasn't what she had meant. Wasn't it? "You're still injured. And they'll try their best to kill you. If I wanted you dead I'd try to do it myself, not leave it to Shinra." It sounded harsh, just as she hoped it would; the last thing she wanted was to get comfortable with Sephiroth. He wasn't a guest and she certainly wasn't his protector.

She was retreating from him on several levels. And it bothered him, though he told himself he ought to have known better. Though his memories were hazy and incredibly fragmented, he did recall that he had burnt down her village, killed her father and moved on to grander things such as attempted murder of the planet. And as always, when he thought of such things, he always wondered why he had done them in the first place. Being a god had never been an ambition, he hadn't even believed in a god and still didn't. All he had ever wanted was to be the best soldier that he could be. But when he had discovered he had been the son of Jenova, all that had changed. He'd had to change.

Slowly, he followed her and realised that he was standing in the doorway of her room. "So I'm not allowed down in the bar, fair enough. Do you have any other rules?"

Tifa flushed. His polite tone was not enough to mask the sarcasm she heard beneath it. "I don't need any lip from you. Just stay out of sight. Things will get messier if my friends realise you are around."

He sensed her fear and knew instinctively it was for Cloud Strife. "Where's Cloud? I've been here for a few days now and he hasn't been here. He does live here, does he not?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that hell, even she wasn't sure of the answer. His body lived here alright but his mind was galaxies away. Did that count as living here? "He's gone away for awhile. He's looking for someone that can't ever come back."

'Aerith.' But he kept his thoughts to himself. So Cloud was in love with Aerith Gainsborough and not with Tifa. And he was still living in his memories. He wondered briefly how Tifa felt, staying with a man who could not love her. Were they lovers? He felt mildly curious but decided that asking that question would induce Tifa to try separating his tongue from the rest of his face, and so he kept his mouth shut. "I'm going to need my sword. Any extra ribbons you have would be useful as well."

She shook her head stubbornly. "You do realise that if I wanted to, I could tear this place apart without your help and find it. I probably would find other things that you are hiding, such as materia and an array of other weapons."

Her stomach lurched sickeningly and at her sides, her fists were balled. "I know. But you aren't going to do that, are you?"

She said that so softly yet firmly that he almost smiled. "No, I won't. But I intend to go out tonight and Midgar's slums may still be inhabited by monsters. All I want is my Masamune to defend myself."

"You want to go out?" she echoed.

"For once, I feel the need to go to church. I believe that there might be someone waiting there for me. Now, if you don't mind." He stepped to the side and indicated with a slight nod that she was to exit the room and lead him to his sword.

Stubbornly, Tifa folded her arms across her chest, giving every indication that she had no intention of following his subtle order. "I don't get it. Why do you want to go to Aerith's church?"

Sephiroth hesitated for a few seconds before deciding that the truth might actually be the best answer in this case. "I saw her this morning, when we were…speaking about the Cetra. She was there beside you for a brief moment. She was smiling."

All the fine hair on the back of Tifa's neck stood and goosebumps erupted over her skin. Aerith had been in the house. Only once before had Tifa seen her, and that was in the church tending to her flowers. She had looked up, smiled and vanished into the sunlight that streamed down on the flowers. It wasn't fair. Cloud had spent all his time there hoping in vain for a glimpse of her and she chose to show herself to his worst enemy.

She blinked hard and he knew she was close to tears. "I still don't entirely believe what you said this morning," he said quietly, shifting his gaze to the window, trying to give her whatever little privacy she could have with someone else in the room. "But I saw the flower girl and I know that apart from her home, she used to frequent the church. Maybe I could see her there."

"Why do you want to see her?"

To apologise. "She's Cetra so she could has some answers. Maybe I'll find out why I am still alive."

She couldn't say no to that. "Wait here."

He let her go, choosing not to watch her departure which took her down into the bar. Instead, he stepped into her room, keeping close to the doorway but searching the room with his eyes. There was a neatly made single bed against one wall, covered in pastel coloured sheets with a white comforter. The walls were white; photographs littered the top of the table which was near the window. He recognised the faces; these were the people who had tried to kill him too. It was a fairly neat and spartan room, one that had yet to be fully lived in. Maybe she was still waiting for Cloud.

He sensed her return even before he heard it. Even though she could walk and move as soundlessly as Yuffie, it wasn't any use against Sephiroth. He shifted slightly and she could see his profile, sharp and pale in the light. Once again, it dawned on her how inhumanly beautiful he was. She had seen Lucrecia and Hojo, and while the former's sweet beauty might have compensated for the latter's appalling looks, there was no way that they could have produced such a handsome specimen. Maybe Jenova cells did have an expected side effect: beauty that hid darkness.

"Here you go." It was with considerable effort that she held out his sword to him. She couldn't quite stop the flashbacks, and her palms were slick with cold sweat when he took it from her. "And these. too" She dropped the ribbon and a deep green materia into his hand. "There's no harm in giving you a healing materia."

"Master materia, Curaga," he murmured. "Thank you." As he strapped Masamune to his side, he noticed her staring at it. "Lockhart, whatever happened in the past, I promise you that Masamune will never again harm you."

Her breath caught, the lines of reality blurred and for one painful stark moment, she was fifteen again. Young, impressionable and with a huge crush on the handsome general, she had asked him curiously how he intended to defend himself against the monsters they would meet. Guns sometimes were not enough to keep back those ravenous beasts. With a slightly chuckle, he withdrew Masamune from the depths of his cloak and unsheathed it. She had started back, awed yet frightened by the wicked looking blade. "Don't worry Miss Lockhart, it won't hurt you," he had said reassuringly before putting it away.

"You said that before," she whispered tightly before turning away and descending the steps.

He didn't know what to say or do. Instead, he let her be. For hours on end, Sephiroth waited silently for nightfall in his room. He wanted answers, he needed them. Maybe when he pieced his life together, he could go about righting some of the wrongs.

………………

Darkness finally descended but he had no intention of going out by the front door. Instead, Sephiroth opted for the window. Houses and buildings were bunched closely together in Midgar and they were a far more desirable option than the streets. His black coat would also hide him from sharp eyes.

Pushing open the window, he was about to climb out when he sensed her presence. "Lockheart?"

She was armed and had more materia this time. Instead of lightning or fire, she had chosen ice instead. "I'm coming with you." He lifted a slender brow at her. "I can't possibly let you wonder around Midgar at night."

"Keeping an eye on me?"

"You could think of it as looking out for you." She flashed him a smile full of fake sweetness although her brown eyes never wavered in their intensity. Sephiroth seemed alright for the moment but then again, he had seemed sane at Nibelheim too. She wasn't taking any chances, not with so many innocents around.

"I'll try to do that. Come on then Lockhart. Try to catch up."

"You—" She started to scowl but the man had disappeared. Cursing and swearing under her breath, Tifa bolted for the window. She could see him in the distance, a graceful shadow blending in almost perfectly with the night. He was right; she was going to have to catch up.

* * *

A/N: Just in case anyone is wondering, I'm not including the Advent Children verse here. This story started before that and I'll keep it that way to avoid complications.


	4. Paths

Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more.

Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)

Genre: Romance/Drama

**EVER AFTER**

**IV. Paths**

Down into the darkness they went. On the surface, Midgar was beginning to repair itself from the damage that Meteor had wrought. There was still much to do and it was sometimes too expensive. Shinra had chosen selective areas for repair and upgrading. Sector 5 was not one of them.

The place felt cold and smelled metallic. Tifa tried not to breathe through her mouth at all; she was afraid of swallowing rust particles. Only the truly brave, the crazy or the homeless ventured so far into the depths of the slums and judging by the fact that they were pretty much alone except for the marauders in the shadows, the she figured that the latter two had not survived.

The sound of skittering feet drew her attention. There were at least three of them and the noise made suggested that they had multiple legs. Something dark pink and purple emerged, and she could see the thick scum that dripped from protruding jaws surrounding a huge mouth that dominated its face. "Whole Eaters," she hissed a warning to Sephiroth.

"They're coming from behind too," he said calmly. "I'll take those."

From behind she heard the faint ring that the blade made as it left its sheath. Then the air in front of her crackled with freezing cold as she unleashed an ice spell on all three of the whole eaters which confronted her. Monstrous jagged icicles ripped through the wailing beasts as they flailed ineffectively, trapped and speared before falling dead to the floor. Using a fully matured ice materia on them felt a little like overkill but tonight, she didn't feel like punching anything. Yet.

Silence fell again and she knew that he had easily dispatched of the monsters behind. "You would think that they would have stopped coming by now," she murmured.

"If they don't eat humans, they eat each other. I'm not sure how intelligent these creatures are but desperation can dull any individual's mind."

He sounded like the general he was, talking down to a novice soldier. Tifa rolled her eyes a little. "So, has it ever happened to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, desperation dulling your mind." Something crunched under her boot as she walked and Tifa refused to think about what remains were clinging to the bottom. She would scrape the boots clean before she stepped into the church.

It would seem like stupidity, walking and talking in the dark while there were monsters around. Still, no amount of silence was going to hide their presence since their enemies had superior senses of smell and sight. He didn't mind a conversation but would prefer not to have it.

"Hey, you started the conversation."

Apparently Lockhart was more perceptive than he had thought her to be. "No, that I can recall." He was being truthful; he could not recall a single instance of feeling desperate. Still, at the moment, walking down memory lane was akin to walking through a sea of shattered glass. The pieces were scattered about and everywhere he looked, he saw a distorted or partial reflection.

"Not even as a child?" Tifa looked at him from the corner of her eye. Usually she just thought of Sephiroth as something that had been spawned just as he was. But once, he had been a baby, small tiny and helpless. And at the mercy of a madman like Hojo. Or had he known kindness from Professor Gast first?

The mention of his childhood stirred something within. Had he been desperate when he had realised that Professor Gast had abandoned him? He had spent days on end, months even just gazing at the door, hoping and wishing that the person to open the door was the kindly Professor who had conducted all his class lessons. And each time his hopes had been dashed when he was greeted by the smugness of Hojo. "No, not even."

There had been the slightest pause in his voice that led her to suspect otherwise. But Sephiroth was not about to give up his secrets, and she didn't know how many of his secrets she could tell him. So Tifa decided that keeping quiet was the way to go.

For a long while, there was nothing but the sound of their footsteps and the occasional monster that tried to ambush them. When he wasn't slicing monsters into ribbons, Sephiroth thought of asking Tifa about herself. Then again, such a question was hardly wise, given her painful history and his connection to it. "Do you go to the church often?"

She'd stopped going months before. Cloud had been there all the time and she had felt as though she had been intruding. "I used to. And then I tried to move on. Aerith would have wanted that. She is alive, just not visible to our eyes."

"She's in the Lifestream." Once more, the memory of the soft lights and voices came back to him and he knew without a doubt, that he had been there too. And then through the darkness, he could make out the shadowy outline of the church. "We're here."

To his surprise, Tifa stopped at the doorway. "I can wait here," she said. "You'll need to speak with Aerith alone. If she appears."

"Lockhart, it's night and those creatures know we are here."

"They don't come to the church. It's safe—" Her sentence turned into an outraged gasp as Sephiroth took her arm and fairly dragged her into the church.

"If you want to give me privacy, then sit there." And with that, Sephiroth pushed her to sit on one of the church pews. It was close to the front, but at the end near the wall. Far enough away from the door and close enough for him to keep an eye on her. "You can always look somewhere else if you want to. Don't move away."

She would have argued with him but it would have made no difference. And there was something so serene about the atmosphere in the church that she hated disrupting. Sephiroth looked around, she saw him stare at the soft starlight that poured down onto the green grass and white flowers. Like her, he was drawn to its otherworldly beauty. Quietly, he stood at the edge, closed his eyes, and waited.

And waited. As quietly impressed by the beauty that he could see and sense around him, Sephiroth had not come to say any prayers nor twiddle his thumbs at the edge of a flowerbed. He was beginning to wonder how long more he had to wait, or if he was even going about this the right way when a soft giggle broke through the silence. Was Lockhart laughing at him?

Cat eyes snapped open and then widened before he could control his reaction. The scent of flowers assailed his sensitive nose, and a cool wind lifted the ends of his silvery mane. There was no sky above, only light as far as the eye could see. It was warm and soft, not blinding, inviting a person to gaze at it for hours.

_You're here. I thought it might be a few days before you came. _

He swung around; he could've sworn that the voice had come from behind. But there was nothing, just cream flowers dancing in the light. "Aerith?" The first time he had heard that name was when Zack insisted on waxing lyrical about his girlfriend in front of him in spite of Sephiroth's pointed remarks about his lack of interest. Still, Zack had continued and Sephiroth had let him. After all, one of them had to talk so that there was some semblance of a conversation.

_The one and only. _

This time, he merely cocked his head to the side, realising the futility of spinning around again. He wasn't so much hearing the voice as feeling it. It was in the light and air, in the flowers and the fields. Wherever he was, she was all around it, in it, part of it.

_Are you wondering why we sent you back? _

Had she been a part of it? He did not recall seeing her, in fact, he couldn't recall a specific voice amongst the soft murmurs, nor a specific touch to those cool hands that had been on his face. "So you are Cetra?"

_You always knew I was. _

Then why had he tried to kill her? If she had been the last female, shouldn't it have been more sensible to track her down for a different reason since he was supposed to be the last of the Cetra as well?

Girlish laughter filled the surroundings. _No, I don't think I would have been receptive to that kind of proposal either. Although it would have been your first time actually wooing a female. Still, you might get that chance._

Ghost or no ghost, he wasn't taking any cheek from her. "I don't think we're here to discuss my love life. I don't understand though, why would I have killed you if you really were a Cetra?"

_It wasn't really you. She had your mind and body, it was always really her. It probably felt like you were doing the thinking but she was there in the background pulling on the strings. You were just the puppet. _

Flashes of Cloud writhing in agony, his hands pressed to his head as he thrashed for control of his mind. "Just a puppet…" Sephiroth heard the echo of his own voice, low and taunting.

_She liked calling you all her puppets. Those who bore her cells. _

His heart was beating faster and harder by the moment. "Mother…"

_Jenova, the calamity that fell from the sky. And she's not your mother. And you are not Cetra either. _

"That's not true!" His hand went to Masamune, a futile and empty threat, an attempt to silence the girlish voice that was ripping the universe as he knew it to shreds.

_Search for the truth. The journey will be worth it. Your life was stolen from you and we've chosen to give it back. _

And then the light wrapped itself around his vision and blinded him. "Wait," Sephiroth cried out.

_Tifa is the key. _

There was an incredible rushing speed and he couldn't breathe. He gasped for air. And broke through to the present. His knees gave way and he grabbed his sword, stabbing down into the wood as he clung to it for balance.

"Sephiroth!"

As he gulped in lungfuls of sweet air, he turned to look at her. She hovered at the edge of the flowerbed, just beyond the curtain of starlight, apprehension and concern so vivid on her face. Kindness for her former enemy, such weakness. It angered and moved him simultaneously.

"Are you alright?" Tifa watched warily, trying not to reach out to him as he swayed.

No. Yes. He didn't know. "I'm fine," he said irritably, forcing himself to straighten his spine and legs. "Let's go."

She looked at him, nonplussed by his coldness. "You saw her?"

As he brushed past her, Sephiroth's arm shot out and Tifa yelped as she was once more dragged unceremoniously alongside him. "Yes I did. She said you were the key."

"The key? To what?" Tifa wriggled and tried to prise his fingers from her arm with a great lack of success. "Let me go!"

"On the contrary Lockhart, I intend to keep you close to my side. Your friend said to search for the truth and that you are the key. Blame her, not me."

It was wrong to think, let alone speak ill of the dead. Still, Tifa couldn't help a sarcastic 'thank you' to Aerith as she struggled to keep up with Sephiroth. "I can walk by myself."

"Good. You'll need that ability for our coming journey."

"Journey?!"

"Yes. We'll start with Shinra military bases that I was assigned to. Like all things, I must have had a beginning. And I want to know what I was like, what I did when I was in SOLDIER. Once we have retrieved that information, I'll decide our next destination."

Sephiroth was going to drag her all over Gaia in search of his past. Sooner or later word of his existence was going to get out. And then she would be in a whole world of trouble when they found out she was with him. "We don't have to do that. I can tell you whatever you want to know." She almost fell over when they jerked to an abrupt halt.

"You know about everything?"

Now that she had his attention, she was starting to wonder if she really wanted it. "Uh, not about your career in SOLDIER. But I know about Hojo and the experiments…"

He remembered reading from books, endless rows of books in a huge library, down in a dark musty room. The knowledge had haunted him for days.

"We'll talk when we get back to your house. But we will be going on that journey."

"Make me!"

It didn't take more than two seconds for Tifa to start regretting those brash words. Blazing green eyes bore down on hers and the fingers that imprisoned her arm tightened imperceptibly, squeezing her flesh. "With great pleasure, Lockhart."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Please leave comments if you have any.


	5. Memory Lanes

Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more.

Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)

Genre: Romance/Drama

**EVER AFTER**

**V. Memory Lanes**

Sephiroth was certainly into manhandling women, Tifa groused to herself as the ex-general practically dragged her back through Sector Five while cutting down whole-eaters as though they were nothing more than pesky flies. The sight of an unsheathed seven-foot katana gleaming wickedly in the dark might have discouraged the monsters as well because there seemed to be less of them on the return trip.

When they got to the window, Tifa climbed in, tried to ignore the feel of his hands on her waist and arm, and failed. 'Now he tries to be a gentleman,' she scoffed. Pivoting quickly, she watched as the tall man got himself through the small window with a lot more grace than people half his height and size. Warily, she eyed him.

"You were saying you knew about my past."

It was not so much a question as it was statement and a demand rolled into one. "Sephiroth, it's past midnight…" And she was tired, and the night was suddenly too dark to be talking fire, bloodshed and worldwide mayhem, even if it had all been laid to rest. To some extent, she corrected herself. Some ghosts just never went away and even the good ones like Aerith Gainsborough could get a girl into trouble.

"Lockhart, you never sleep until one in the morning. And that is early for you."

Now that was slightly worrying, that he was aware of when she slept and probably for how long. "And you know this because…"

She was not saying the words directly but from the defensive way she folded her arms across her chest and the edge in her words, she might as well have accused him of being a closet pervert. "I have never needed much sleep. A physiology as Mako-enhanced as mine, coupled with Moth… with Jenova's cells, equates to a very short period needed for physical recovery and regeneration. Besides," he looked around the room and out the window briefly, "when you realise you're back in a place you never thought you would see again, you tend to want to keep awake and make the most of it."

For a second, the barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips and then it vanished so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. "And you want to make the most of it traipsing all over Gaia, never mind that the sight of you will inspire half the residents of every location to bar their doors and take up arms."

"That leaves several sets of other halves of the populations unaccounted for," he replied coolly as he walked past her to his room.

"They would probably pack up and flee. Or petition Shinra to hunt you down!" Agitated, she stalked after him, slowing her pace when he unstrapped Masamune. It was with more than some relief when he merely placed it against the wall next to his bed. "This is not the time for jokes. You cannot," she said emphatically, jabbing a finger in his general direction, "cannot go on such a trip."

With a sigh that informed her that he found her entirely bothersome, he removed his heavy cloak. "Lockhart, I wasn't assigned to handle top secret missions for Shinra simply because I was the best fighter they had. I can move without being seen if I want to."

"Well, you aren't going to be able to do so for very long because Rufus Shinra has eyes everywhere and you want to go to Shinra military bases."

"I can handle that."

"Well, I can't! You cannot bring me everywhere with you just because Aerith said something to you about me being the key. Doesn't that sound very cryptic and rather inscrutable, to be honest?"

Cool green eyes flickered with strange emotion as he draped his cloak over the back of a chair, never once shifting his gaze from her. "You would rather than I make the journey alone then, left to my own devices and shattered memories?"

He had her cornered and he knew it. Tifa clamped her teeth together so hard they hurt. Of course she would not. How could she let an ex-psychotic, would-be god run off into the great unknown without someone to raise the red flag should his madness start up again? Of course, she would probably die in the process of warning the others but her death would not be in vain. She hoped. Cloud had stopped him once and he could do so again.

"Besides, I think I will need you with me."

Those words disrupted the litany in her head. Tifa blinked in surprise. "Say that again?"

Thoughtfully, Sephiroth eyed the petite woman before him. "What the flower girl said is not all that illogical. You have a purpose to serve. The last time I tried to find out who I was, it did not go well." Lockhart paled at his words and he felt slightly despicable for dredging up such memories but they were the truth, and he had never been one to run from the truth, no matter how ugly or heartbreaking it could be. If he had, the world might have turned out differently. "Did you not help Cloud Strife discover his true identity?"

It was always a bittersweet thing for her. Cloud reduced to a catatonic creature with her helplessly standing by. Falling into luminous streams of green energy that had buried them both and brought him out reborn. In spite of that, she now knew she could never know him entirely, not enough to reach him. Yet, she had been there to put back the pieces. Had Aerith been watching? Was this why she had done this? Biting her lip so hard that she almost split it, Tifa looked down, knew what she had to do and looked up at Sephiroth. What he had phrased as a question was really a very indirect request for her help.

"What if I could—and I'm not saying I definitely can—but what if I could get documents about the Jenova Project, those that have details about you?"

In spite of his wish to appear unaffected, he was helpless to stop the excitement that unfurled in the pit of his belly. "That would be a start."

"You mean you still want to go travelling?"

She was clearly exasperated but he owed her no explanation. Oddly, he found himself providing one. "If I raised you in a room and let you read about the world outside, wouldn't you want to as well? Think about it from my perspective."

That would be a first. 'But you have to try,' a small voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Aerith's, chided her gently. If they were going to manage this together, and Gaia help her but she was already in over her head thick in this matter, she would have to accommodate him. 'You could help him to see the world through your eyes.' The thought came so suddenly, like first light on the horizon, so clear and so clean in the way it cut through her fear and anger. All Sephiroth had ever known were Shinra and Jenova. And now he was here, back from the dead, with a relatively clean slate to start with again.

Tifa was beginning to understand, finally. With that, acceptance began to grow someplace inside. "Only if you occasionally take your own advice and think about it from mine." He tilted his head to the side, looking almost oddly whimsical before giving her a curt nod. "Would you like some coffee? We've got a long night ahead." Without explaining, she reached into her pocket and took out her sleek, crimson PHS, tried not to wince as she saw Sephiroth arch a brow at the bejeweled chocobo accessory that dangled from it and hit the speed dial.

Somewhere out there in the city, another PHS started ringing. Reeve Tuesti cursed as he fumbled for the phone. "What?" he rumbled into the speaker, voice hoarse with sleep.

"It's me, Tifa. I need a huge favour."

That phone conversation lasted for approximately twenty minutes, possibly the tersest one she had had in a long time. Of course Reeve wanted to know why the sudden interest in Sephiroth, and more than that, why she needed copies of whatever he could get faxed over. She could not give him anything beyond the very clichéd 'You'll just have to trust me' which of course, inspired more doubt and distrust.

In the end, Reeve agreed, although he would only consent to giving her information, which he had personally collected. "Tseng could probably get more but you can't expect him to sit still and not investigate why you want this information." Tifa wondered if Reeve would, and if he did, for how long. At least he would not call on the services of the Turks.

An hour later, the fax machine sprang to life and began spitting out sheets of paper with the words 'Confidential' stamped all over them. Many had paragraphs blotted out but there was plenty to read, judging by the miniscule fine print. And all this while, Sephiroth sat quietly at the desk, sipping from a steaming cup occasionally as he picked up the sheets of paper and stapled each report together. That lasted until the first three reports, after which he began reading and left Tifa to do all the work.

When the final report was produced, she arranged everything in order, took a seat opposite him, counted how quickly she could make it to the door behind her if Sephiroth snapped from handling all this forbidden knowledge, realized she had no prayer of a chance anyway even if she did have a head-start, and picked up a report he had finished reading. What he knew, she wanted to know as well.

It was early in the morning when fatigue finally got the better of Tifa. Outside, the sun had begun to rise but the two inhabitants of the house seemed unaware of the shift in time. The coffee had long congealed on the surface in their cups and in the pot, and Tifa Lockhart did not know it but sometime close to dawn, her eyes had fluttered shut and she now lay with her cheek cradled on one forearm, a sheaf of papers clutched loosely in her other hand as she slept at the table.

Very gently, almost tenderly, Sephiroth pushed away sable waves of hair that covered the unread reports that lay between them and retrieved one. His fingers shook, not from the contact, but from everything he had read so far. There were Gast Faremis' original reports, so detailed that Sephiroth could practically imagine the scene before him.

_**Today, we found her. The last Cetra, or at least I think it is so because of the writings on the walls. These are alien script, to us at least but I recognize them as runes used by the Ancients. I wonder what happened to her, to be stowed away in the Northern Crater. Perhaps some great battle, which might explain why she is so misshapen. Yet the face is beautiful, the eyes open but blank. Maybe she was the ruler of her people, the last to be saved before all others were lost. **_

And so they had brought the being he had known as Mother all his life back to Midgar. When he had read those words, his head had swam with memories. He knew what that face looked like, had looked upon it with such hope. Finally, he belonged. He knew…

"…_she's not your mother. And you are not Cetra either." _Aerith Gainsborough's voice had echoed in his head.

The rest of the report detailed several experiments that had been carried out, including a season where they had attempted to resurrect the body.

_**There is life, of that I have no doubt. Yet the Ancient continues in this strange stasis, regardless of whatever we try. Today, for the first time, I consented to the taking of some cells. The answer to waking her may be found through experimentation. **_

What followed was a summary of the experiments that had taken place. There were no results, curiously enough. He would never know, but Sephiroth suspected someone had edited the reports, tampered with them. He did find one half-blacked out paragraph though.

_**The subjects reacted negatively to the addition of the new cells. Even the flora samples have withered and died. One mutated and grew teeth. I find it hard to believe that the cells of an Ancient could do this. **_

That was the one and only report on Jenova herself. The second and third ones he picked up were labeled Project G. Those had been long and extensive, taking several hours to plough through. Project G had been a horror story of science; the failures had been grotesque and with the exception of one failure, all had been destroyed or subjected to further tests until their bodies collapsed.

The report he had taken from beneath Lockhart's hair had been compiled by Hojo. For one moment, Sephiroth had seen the scientist looming above him, a bright green syringe in his hand and he could feel hands holding him still. He might have been crying because no one else was sobbing. Then it passed and he was back in the room with the sleeping woman.

As he expected, the report was all about him. Project S, that was what it was called. Much of it was a study of what had happened to adult subjects injected with Jenova cells and all of them had become monsters.

**But these failures have much strength and power. If we could harness that in a body that would not deteriorate externally, which could grow with the cells instead of rejecting them as invasions, we could breed a perfect specimen.**

Bile rose in the back of his throat. Specimen, that's what that amateur had always called him. The urge to vomit grew phenomenally when he reached a page that listed out the details of Project S. Two people had contributed to what was termed as the production of Foetus S: Professor Hojo and Research Assistant Lucrecia Crescent. "No." The word dropped from his lips as a desperate whisper, a weak denial of an awful truth that was dawning. And then nausea overcame him and the chair scraped loudly on the floor as he leapt up.

Tifa jerked up off the table and into semi-wakefulness, just in time to catch sight of Sephiroth's silver mane disappearing through the doorway. "Sephiroth?" Her only answer was the sound of a door slamming. Alarmed and rapidly getting frightened, she followed him. Turning the knob, she discovered he had locked it but when she pressed her ear to the wood, she could faintly make out the sounds of harsh retching. Retreating back to the study, it was easy to see which report he had been reading; he had gripped the pages so tightly it was practically crushed at the edges. Holding it up, her eyes zoomed over the paragraphs and stopped at the line detailing his parentage. "Hojo and Lucrecia," she muttered. No wonder he was throwing up in the toilet; she would too if Hojo had been her father.

"He never knew, at least I don't think so."

She jumped, barely stifling her gasp of shock and then failing to do so when she realized who was standing in the doorway. "Reeve!"

"Seriously, Tifa. Did you expect otherwise?"

She was thinking of a reply when the sound of a lock sliding back interrupted them. Time slowed. With wide, horrified eyes, she watched as Sephiroth emerged into the tiny hallway, watched as the sound registered with Reeve who spun around. And then his hand was reaching into his jacket and there was the sharp click of a bolt sliding into place and a shiny black gun was pointed right up at the taller man's face.

Several things happened all at once.

The soft muted whine of a bullet being discharged ripped into the air.

Sephiroth dodged.

Tifa leaped forward and tackled Reeve.

And then she realized the smell of blood was in the air.

"Sephiroth!"

* * *

**A/N**: _Okay, so I will be cutting Advent Children events completely out but I may include Crisis Core ones. It depends. This story was written long before any of those came out, especially Dirge of Cerberus. If you know the FFVII universe with all the latest expansions well, I seriously could use a beta reader. I read up as much as I can, especially since I only have a PS3 nowadays and watch all I can feast my eyes on (Sephy-sama!) but nothing compares to playing the games and going through those motions._

_The Muse is on a roll. She's overcompensating for long absences. Many thanks to all who read and reviewed! I'll make it a point to reply from now on._


	6. What Doesn't Kill You

**Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more.**

**Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)**

**Genre: Romance/Drama**

**Review Replies:**

_Ukirra: Aw, thanks. I often find myself trawling for SephTi and running into the same problem. I think that probably kicked the Muse into doing these stories. And then when people tell me they actually like them… ^_^ No cliffie this time but a quick update. Hope this does it for you again!_

_MadMissMissy: The Muse says thanks. She'll stick around for awhile more I think. And it's funny you mentioned Nibelheim because they will have to go there eventually. I've kind of worked out a scene so hopefully it fits when the plot finally gets there. And thank you, thank you for always reviewing!_

_Numinous-Alqua: Thanks for the thumbs up and yeah, I hope I manage to keep at it too. A seven-year break is just too shameful for words…_

_Carrie88: You! I love "The Path We Choose"; I've been sneaking reads here and there when I can grab the minutes. I'm so glad the stories get your seal of approval. ^_^_

_Tartar12345: Reeve Tuesti should blame you for your little gem of a suggestion! I hope you'll pop in occasionally and leave your comments, if that's not too much to ask. You are very constructive and it keeps me on my toes, something I appreciate especially because I want to not just have fun but also write well._

**EVER AFTER**

**VI. What Doesn't Kill You**

"Sephiroth!" Reeve roared as he struggled to throw the martial artist off his back. For a slender girl, she sure packed some punch, not that she'd hit him of course. But being pinned down to the ground was not his kind of thing, not with a maniac in the vicinity. Besides, he was married. Happily so. And for that to remain that way, he needed to live. "For God's sake Tifa, get off. He's got the gun! He's going to—"

The sound of bullets being emptied out of a cartridge and sprinkling themselves on the floor made both Tifa and Reeve look up. With blood running down the side of his hand, Sephiroth proceeded to take apart Reeve's weapon and dropped the various parts on the floor in front of two shocked pairs of eyes. "I'll leave you to explain things to Mr Tuesti. If you don't mind, I need some time alone." He wanted to close the door, very much so, but he was a little afraid of either being alone, in every way a person possibly could, or of what he might do. Sephiroth recognized the symptoms of mild shock and those were the only reasons why he had reacted far slower than he normally would have. While he had expected Reeve Tuesti to make an appearance, he had not anticipated the gun in the pocket and he ought to have been able to wrest the weapon away before the former had even time to pull the trigger.

Quietly, he washed away the blood that dripped down his elbow and his palm, realized the bullet had torn off a large portion of his skin, possibly even some flesh, and set about searching for a first aid kit. When he did not find one in his room, he settled for pressing one of the hand towels against the wound. The pain felt good, but it did not dull the revelations coming at him fast and furious. He had never known, and Hojo had. Which meant Gast Faremis had as well. Had everyone at Shinra known?

Possibly, the more logical part of his brain surmised. Yes, everyone must have known. Certainly the President and Rufus Shinra. Had they ever sniggered, to see Sephiroth standing next to the slight, twisted scientist, not knowing his own flesh and blood was mere feet away? The hand bearing down on the wound turned white around the knuckles. Well, Hojo had been right when he had told an eight-year-old Sephiroth that his father had not wanted him. "Why else do you think you are here?" The raven-haired man had sneered, and even then, child that he was, he had known the pleasure his pain was giving the other. "Your mother died and your father left you, practically offered you up for the programme."

He had a biological father; he had always known that. Before Hojo's cruelty, he had always pictured that person to look something like Professor Gast, the closest thing he had had to a father figure at that point. After that incident, he had asked Gast if Hojo had spoken the truth, that his father had rejected him. The older man had smiled sadly, ruffled his hair and been truthful. After that, Sephiroth had stopped thinking about fathers. In his mind, he had only one parent and that was his mother. 'She wanted you,' Gast had said softly as Sephiroth bit into his hand to stop the sobs, refusing to be held. 'She loved you very much.' At least he belonged to someone, even if she was dead.

'Mother.' From the chunks of memories where the spectres of Hojo loomed, that word emerged. 'Research Assistant Lucrecia Crescent.'

Then he was aware of Tifa Lockhart standing there. "Yes?"

He would not look up and Tifa was not sure if he was even aware of how bloody the towel was becoming even though he appeared to be focused on it. The great General Sephiroth, standing blankly in the middle of a room staring into the past and seeing it with some degree of truth. She knew he was in pain and that gave her no satisfaction, despite his numerous sins. "Drink this." She held out the slender potion bottle. "It will stop the bleeding."

"Just put it there."

"You have to drink it. Please." Warm fingers touched his shoulder and the bottle appeared in his line of sight.

He did not move. Minutes passed, she grew more nervous, Reeve in the doorway was beginning to eye his gun again and the towel was going to be dripping blood very soon. With a sigh that trembled, Tifa pulled out the stopper and held the bottle up to him again. "Don't make me feed it to you. After all, you are standing on a new rug and I hate trying to get bloodstains out of cloth. For some reason, I just can't."

* * *

Compartmentalise, that is the key. Stop the bleeding. Make her go away so that he can wrestle with the memories in a private hell. Sephiroth lifts a bloodied hand to the bottle, watches as it makes its way to his lips. Then he swallows, tasting the sweetly bland concoction and feels a mild tingle down his spine. Underneath the towel, he feels flesh grow. Skin knits back together and in a moment, the physical pain stops.

Wordlessly, she takes it from him and he thinks she will go away now. Instead, she grasps him by the wrist, sits him down on the bed and she has another towel now, damp with water as she cleans the blood off his hands. If he is being compliant, it is because there is no point in fighting her on this. It is also, the fact registers, the first time in years that anyone has tended to him without taking something. No scalpels, no needles, no cells being scraped or blood drawn. No scans. Just cool water, gentle callused long fingers, and a quiet word to let him know that she will be in the study.

He has to know. She said she did. "Lucrecia Crescent, did she die in childbirth?"

Tifa's eyes, her unusual cinnamon eyes, soften that much and her whole face becomes a mass of sympathy and uncertainty. She looks like Gast Faremis, all those years ago. Another truth sinks in.

"No, she didn't."

There is no barely perceptible shudder, nor any gasp of pain or anger. He does not get up and pace the room, there is no fiery litany against his parentage and the curse laid on him since conception. Instead, he blinks those unnatural beautiful green eyes that have terrified her in nightmares and memories and murmurs a very calm, "I see. Thank you." Then he looks down and his silvery fringe falls between them like a shield and it is only when he draws in a deep breath long seconds later that she even realises he had been holding it.

She cannot tell what is going on inside his head and it scares her. She wishes she knew what to do to make him feel better. She suspects it is a desire driven by reluctant compassion and the need for self-preservation. Experience has taught her that when Sephiroth hurts, the world burns. So they remain there, as though frozen in stasis, she with the bloodied towels wadded up in her right hand and an empty bottle in the other; he holding one world that is breaking apart and another that is coming together.

* * *

Reeve Tuesti wants answers and he wants them now. Several hard pinches, and the twinge in his wrist caused by a supposedly dead super villain having wrenched the gun out of his hand convince him that this is not a nightmare, not the ones you have when you are sleeping. It is rather hard to accept this as reality either; Tifa Lockhart has been standing next to the unmoving Sephiroth, keeping watch over him. At least it looks like that to him, for want of a better description. He thinks about picking up his gun and reassembling it but he does not want to trigger a homicidal rage in Sephiroth. Never mind the man's unusual actions; after all, the ex-General was certifiably insane, the last time he had checked.

She turns around when he discreetly clears his throat. It is with some reluctance that she leaves the side of a man who might as well have been carved in stone. Their eyes meet, Tifa nods and they return to the study, both of them all too aware of the man they are leaving behind.

"Are you alright?" Reeve asks and Tifa feels some gratitude. Anyone else would have raved, either through a barrage of questions or statements, that she was completely mad to be sheltering Sephiroth when she ought to have run to Shinra or at least her friends proclaiming his return.

When she nods and he is entirely sure that she is not under the control of any spell, especially since she is wearing that familiar red ribbon, Reeve sighs and arches a brow. "You'll just have to trust me?"

Tifa flushes. "It's not like you listened. Plus, I couldn't very well say I needed those documents because the subject of said documents is alive, kicking and more than eager to read them. I don't care how secure your line is; you know your boss."

"You think asking for top secret documents won't catch the attention of his long ears?"

"He'll trust you to handle me and report anything of interest. If he really knew what was going on, he'd be here with the Turks and the entire Shinra army and half this sector would be scrap metal."

Reeve considers this and nods. "Point taken. So now what? And I thought Cloud killed him, body and spirit."

She leans a hip into the heavy wooden table and folds her arms. "You'd better sit down. And if you want to blame anyone, blame Aerith."

Visibly startled, the Head of Urban Development and soon to be founder of the World Regenesis Organisation decides to take the slim martial artist's advice. As she delves into the details, he is glad he did. Especially when she finishes her story and then announces that she needs to take Sephiroth out of Midgar, preferably sooner than later.

"What?" In spite of himself, Reeve realises he is almost shouting. "He should be taken into custody now, especially if he is sane. Let the doctors decide for themselves. You cannot, cannot be asking me to keep quiet while he is free to roam Gaia. He might not always remain this way," here Reeve lowers his voice although both of them know Sephiroth can still hear them, "and you will be alone with him."

Beneath that anger is a real concern for the planet and her safety. So she'll let the tone slide. From his perspective, hell, who is to say she wouldn't react the same way… This is as close to crazy as she has ever been but the conviction that she is right can't be shaken. "He won't allow himself to be locked up in laboratories again. He'll fight, Shinra will hunt him down and history might end up repeating itself. People will get hurt."

"People have already gotten hurt." Nibelheim flits through his mind but it doesn't pass his lips. Some wounds just should not be pressed, no matter what. "He's too much of a threat…"

"I trust Aerith. Even if I don't trust him."

"How do you know that it wasn't Jenova taking on Aerith's form to deceive the both of you?"

For a moment, she has no answer and she actually considers, seriously considers, what Reeve has said. Then her eyes fall on the documents, especially the one crushed by his hands. "If it had been her, she would have kept him as far away from me as possible. Look what I've managed to give him. It's a truth she concealed, all those years ago. He's just a human."

They are both at a draw and they know it. Reeve can see the truth of what Tifa has said but everything instinct inside him screams that Sephiroth cannot be allowed to go. He will never know for sure what it looked like for Tifa up there on the Highwind but Reeve still sees Meteor, misshapen, black as night and brimming with an overwhelmingly malevolence, bearing down on Midgar to crush metal and flesh alike. Bearing down on him and the terrified civilians clinging to his arms.

Drawing a tired hand across his eyes, because he has not been able to sleep since her call, Reeve speaks. "I see your point but I cannot let him go. Not like this. There is just too much to answer for if anything were to go wrong. I'm sorry Tifa." And then his eyes widen as a much taller figure looms in the background. Cat green eyes meet his. There is nothing in them he can read.

"I'm sorry too, Mr Tuesti."

* * *

This is awful, this cannot be happening. "Sephiroth, stop!"

"This won't hurt, Lockhart. It will only take a minute."

"He's my friend. You cannot simply…" Before she can stop him, Masamune flashes out and slices through cloth. Tifa bites back an automatic yelp.

"There." Sephiroth steps back and surveys his handiwork. The Head of Urban Development for Shinra lies sleeping on the floor, trussed up as thoroughly as a Chocobo captured from the wild. "It should take him an hour to get out of these bonds once the Sleepel spell wears off."

That reminds her. "Speaking of spells… You found the secret basement. When?" Tifa demands flatly.

Sephiroth shrugs before holding out the bright green materia to her. Her first thought, however irrational, is to snatch it from him. Instead, she reaches out and very carefully takes it. "I don't need materia so that knowledge is inconsequential. We need to leave now so you should take whatever you need with you. Make it quick."

It's a conclusion that she arrived at the moment Reeve insisted on turning Sephiroth in but at that moment, hearing him ordering her to vacate her own home at his expense rankles. She grits her teeth, drops one last regretful look at the unconscious Reeve and starts packing.

In less than an hour, she's done. Premium Heart is slotted full of Master materia and a couple of summons. Tifa has second thoughts about taking Knights of the Round with her but she eventually puts it in anyway, as she does her Mimic materia. Below the Ribbon goes her Mystile Armlet, something she has not worn in awhile. It brings back memories of triumphs and tragedies and the gooseflesh rises on her body as she realises that once again, adventure has found her and she is being swept away.

A couple of extra clothes and two weeks worth of rations goes into her pack, along with small luxuries like blankets and she grabs a collapsible tent, just in case they venture into areas with no inns around. Hefting the pack over one shoulder and sticking the bundled up tent under her other arm, she goes to Cloud's room, grabs a spare set of keys and feels the sharp bite of guilt at what she's about to do. Sephiroth is waiting in the study and wordlessly, he unzips a large pocket of her pack and tucks the documents inside. "I'm going to collect our ride. Meet me outside the Sector Gate."

True to his reputation and skill, he makes his way across the buildings, a silver ghost invisible by daylight. Perched up high on a stray metal bolt protruding from the wall, he waits patiently for Lockhart and wonders if she is going to suffer any losses because of him. 'Again,' he reminds himself. It hurts, literally, to think too much of Nibelheim but there is something important there that he must confront. For the moment though, he'd rather not think at all, not about his newly discovered parentage, not about the real possibility of Shinra coming down hard on him to take him back to white spaces where no one hears you scream, not about the Ancient being right about him. All he wants to do is escape.

The low roar of a very powerful engine sounds in his ears. The gate opens and shuts in a matter of short minutes, accompanied by a loud, rusty clanging that tells him maintenance is way overdue but Sephiroth finds himself still aloft and staring down at Lockhart. It's a little unsettling to see her, one long slim booted leg astride a monstrously large but sleek motorbike, the other on the ground for balance as she looks around for him, shades perched on sable brown hair that turns to fire in the sun. Her skirt is a little too short for his liking, Sephiroth thinks before averting his eyes and brushing the thought aside.

He drops down out of the shadows soundlessly and she jumps, in spite of herself. She likes that his eyes run appreciatively over the bike and not her form. That's another thing that sets him apart from the regular guys.

"Is this Strife's vehicle?"

She nods. "He took Fenrir with him. This is the Mk II version. He was working on some additions before he left." Tifa schools her face into a careful expression of neutrality when she says this. She is sick of Yuffie and Barret telling her she looks lower than a hound dog whenever she or anyone else mentions his absence. The practice seems to have paid off because Sephiroth just nods and then does something that outrages her.

"I am not riding pillion, Lockhart."

Scratch the being different from regular guys. "Why not?" As though in challenge, her hands tighten on the handles of the bike.

There are only two he can think of; one of those he cannot possibly disclose to her and the other, she will reject outright since it has to do with the male ego.

"I've seen Cloud fight on Fenrir before. It makes sense for you to sit at the back, just in case we get attacked. You are, after all, the one with the weapon and if I am driving, it gives you both hands free."

There's no arguing with that logic. So Sephiroth grudgingly does as she asks. The only consolation he gets though is Lockhart squirming slightly when he settles his hands loosely around her waist. "You did insist on me riding at the back," he reminds her.

She mutters something but it is lost in the low rumble of the engine. And then they are off, a stream of dust scattered on the winds behind them and Sephiroth learns two things about Tifa Lockhart as he leans over her, keeping low as this incarnation of Fenrir eats up the ground beneath them with blinding speed.

One: she can really, really handle a bike.

Two: her hair smells like vanilla.

* * *

When Reeve Tuesti wakes up, he is so angry that he sees red, literally, for a moment or two. And then he relaxes, the need for cool-headed efficiency kicking in. He's not a grunt but he knows more than a few tricks, thanks to the Turks. In ten minutes, he's out of what used to be his expensive suit jacket and massaging his wrists and ankles. Then he picks up the envelope that is propped up on the floor with his name on it. It's from Tifa, written in her expansive, curly scrawl.

He reads what she has to say, decides it is high time he returns to report to his perpetually suspicious President, and thinks very carefully about his next steps.


	7. Reprieve

**Disclaimer: FF VII is not mine and this is done purely for pleasure, nothing more.**

**Summary: Revived by the Cetra, Sephiroth is thrown back into the real world where the struggle to redeem himself, ward off old enemies and falling in love slowly but surely convince him that he is human after all… (Seph/Ti)**

**Genre: Romance/Drama**

**Review Replies:**

_Carrie88: Heya, aw. Thanks for the compliment on Sephiroth and allow me to return the compliment by saying the same about your Genesis. I really like the way you write him and I found myself wondering if he was going to try to steal Tifa away (!). There's very little Genesis/Tifa *cough* The pairing could do with a contribution._

_Dazzling Mage: Thank you for coming back to this story and bothering to wade through from the very start! I'm glad the pace sits well with you. Sometimes I think to myself, 'Five chapters and we are still in Midgar?' Not too much action in this chapter but I hope it suffices. ^_^_

_Ukirra: Well, Reeve had to tell Rufus something. And that's all I'm saying so nothing gets spoiled. Thanks for reviewing and always being so encouraging!_

_Sorrow Has a Human Heart: Hey, I'm so glad to hear from you! And I want to thank you for reviewing the other story. It's very dark—it is after all about a very sensitive topic—and I really appreciate you leaving your comments. It's assuring to know I've got Tifa right so far; sometimes she gives me a headache and at least I'm on the right path. Thanks!_

_Tartar12345: Wah! Firstly, that was an incredible review and barring one other in another fandom, I think it is the longest I've ever received. I'm not complaining though! You put a great deal of thought and time into it and I am so very appreciative of you for doing so. I love reviews that raise questions and make me think because that always helps with the conceptualizing and I've got a lovely image and a chapter partly done in my head and it takes place in Nibelheim, thanks to you and M.M.M. I was daydreaming about it at my desk. I didn't realise I referred to her as 'slender' that much; maybe I'm reacting to all the hype about Tifa's two assets, and they don't mean her fists either; I think it's quite a downer for a girl to be that capable and mostly noticed for those two things, at least it seems that way where fanboys are concerned. As for camouflage, for now they'll do as Yuffie does and sneak around while they can. As for Sephiroth's psychological development, it's a mix of his past, which will come back to him, whatever pieces he can't recall and he'll have to separate them from what Jenova put in his head and the events he saw through her eyes. It's messy and it'll be slow… but hopefully well written. Now about Cloud and the bike, hehe. That's seriously worth considering. But I love Cloud too and I want to be fair to him. So no self-indulgence there; I'd like to excavate the guy's psychology and lay that out…_

_Mariagoner: Thank you and thank you for commenting on the plot and characterization, which tell me I haven't gone off the far of the Da Chao mountain end and hit rock bottom. I'm thrilled you enjoy this story so much and I hope you continue to have fun with this chapter. ^_^_

_Strifey Eris: Well, Tifa will have second thoughts and doubts here and there, it'll take some time and some events to happen before Aerith and Sephiroth convince her that this is meant to be and completely right to do. But thank you for pointing that out; I did not want a resolution to totally trust him this early on as it would not be as realistic. As for why he calls her Lockhart, it's just how I see it in my imagination! Call it a Sephiroth quirk._

**EVER AFTER**

**VII. Reprieve**

There is blessed reprieve. And just because it will not last does not mean it is not real. The wind is combing through his heavy hair, the leather duster cracks sharply in the breeze even as he moves to tuck it closer to his body, all the while aware of the burning sun above them that warms his skin and melts some of the coldness. He can feel the firm press of Lockhart's body against his fingers as they bank low to the right, circumventing a rocky outcrop in this Mako-created desert. Sephiroth tells himself that he does not have to think, not while Fenrir is still leaping and alive beneath them, the powerful thrumming a seductive lull to mindlessness, to just ride beneath the light into nowhere.

_Zack would approve._

The thought impales him with its conviction, the sharpness of emotion refreshingly clear. Where had it come from?

The sun blazes down and melts away the edges of this reality, peeled back and unfurled. He is in an army truck that keeps up an accursed bouncing pace and apart from some miserable bruised recruits whose first trip it is out and who are his responsibility to shepherd, there is also Zackary Fair. SOLDIER, First Class, and he looks nothing like the fearsome warrior type that Shinra keeps touting to the public. Zack of the laughing eyes that Mako cannot taint, with skin whose fairness he is constantly lamenting over, who carries a heavy sword like a feather because of the lightness in his heart, whose enemies always underestimate him until it is too late. Zack Fair who has a mouth that will not stop moving.

"When I get back to Midgar, I'm going to sleep for two days and then find me a girl to occupy me for the next three."

Coming from any other man, it would have been a callous statement. But Sephiroth has encountered Zack's girls, once unfortunately, and he has sized them up accurately. They only want a good time and they do not ask for more. A fair exchange, Sephiroth decides.

"What are you gonna do with your week off?"

Maybe if he keeps his eyes closed and his breathing light, Zack will think he is asleep.

"Sephiroth," he complains, because best friend or not, no one ever calls him 'Seph', "I know you are not asleep. I could hear you cursing the driver."

Exasperated green eyes slowly open to meet a grinning Zackary. What a puppy, he thinks to himself. "I haven't spoken in the last thirty minutes."

"Telepathy. Great minds and all that jazz," the younger man taps his temple. "Do you want me to…ah… introduce you to someone?"

Planet help him. He still had shudders just thinking about the last time his friend had tried to 'assist' him in that department. And Hojo had been spitting mad when he had found out about it.

_The last thing I need is your little bastards running about Midgar with unmonitored experimental genes in their veins! _

He had then threatened to have Zack dealt with and that was when he realized he had overstepped boundaries and that Sephiroth was no longer a terrified, sullen child confined to laboratories.

Thinking about Hojo raised a host of dark thoughts so he retreated from them for now and focused on the memory, followed the path laid down before him before it vanished.

"No, thank you," he had said firmly.

"Sephiroth, you really need to loosen up. You need to get a social life."

"Zackary, saying the same thing repeatedly tends to make you a boring person."

"You wound me," Zack shot back dryly. "But it doesn't make it any less true. You need to do something spontaneously and that means not bringing Masamune around, for once."

Resigning himself to listening to his friend's monologue, Sephiroth sighed imperceptibly, tightened his grip on the katana when the truck goes over a particularly high bump and this time he does curse the driver, audibly enough to interrupt Zack and make him laugh. Then he listens, with one ear and most of it going out the other but snatches of it draw his attention. Something about a hot summer day and racing the wind and a gorgeous girl by his side…

Years later, this is what he has but it is not what Zackary Fair would have had in mind. Still, he would approve, even if Sephiroth has to take the backseat. And it finally occurs to the latter that it has been a very long time since he has thought of Zackary Fair.

He is glad to have him back, no matter where in his mind this friend leads.

* * *

Unfortunately, Sephiroth had plenty of questions about exactly where Tifa Lockhart was leading him. "Kalm? We are heading to Kalm?"

She had stopped the bike some distance from the village and was waiting for Sephiroth to get off. He was not moving. "We'll hide Fenrir, sneak into the town and find an empty inn. Warm food, acceptable beds and I'll leave some gil in a discreet place that will be found a couple of days after we leave."

"Kalm?"

She could practically hear the unspoken invectives flying over her head. "Do you mind?" she said pointedly, turning back to glare at his leg which was still pressed against the bottom of her thigh.

"Of course I do. Reeve Tuesti and the Turks are going to hunt us down in less than two hours and will probably die of laughter while they are at it." With fluid speed, he dismounted the bike. "Get off. I'm driving this time."

Tifa sighed, gave him a look that made it clear she thought he was behaving like a child and did as he ordered. Except that she took the keys out of the ignition and slipped them into a back pocket of her skirt. One silver brow arched.

"Don't think I won't use force to get those keys." Doing that would mean squeezing his hand into that tiny snug scrap of material she called a pocket. That would not necessarily be a bad thing. He could almost picture Zackary's leer and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Pale green grass brushed against her ankles and calves, a mild wind brought the sweet scent of green and salt with it. "Just hear me out. I left Reeve a note—"

"Which he will read after he wakes up to find himself bound hand and foot. That will give him a great deal of incentive to listen to what you have to say."

Tifa counted to five before continuing. "He might actually. If that had been Cid, Barret or Yuffie we would be running for the hills now but Reeve can be very logical even under trying circumstances. Besides, I did tell you not to tie him up."

"If it had been any of those three, I assure you that I would have done more than tie them up."

"Has anyone told you that your sense of humour can be a tad creepy at times?"

"You're only the second person to say that I actually have one."

That surprised her enough for a second or two of silence to settle between them. Who had been the first person? She remembered a blue-eyed, laughing dark-haired man, the only one who had been able to get a smile out of the tall, stoic General. 'Lieutenant Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class.' He had tried to stop Sephiroth and had paid dearly for it.

"Back to the point," she said reprovingly. "There's a good chance Reeve will do as I ask and I'll need to be in Kalm to find that out. In any case, even if he doesn't, the Turks will not think of Kalm. They might be waiting in all the likely places, the North Crater for one, or Professor Gast's laboratory at Icicle Inn, maybe even the Temple of the Ancients but Kalm is not likely to be on their list because it is unimportant and so close to Midgar."

Maybe she did have a point, Sephiroth conceded. He watched as she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ears, noted the way her eyes trailed off into the horizon, towards the smell of the sea. "And if they do show up, I'll turn myself in while you make a run for it."

"You want me to leave you behind in the hands of Rufus Shinra and his Turks?"

Tifa was somewhat mollified by his tone which was flat and a different way of saying 'Hell no'. "Rufus Shinra won't hurt me; Reeve won't let him and I seriously doubt he wants my friends showing up to demand my release. And when you do escape, it's highly unlikely that they will launch a massive manhunt for you. It's been two years since you…died…and people are rebuilding from the fallout. He cannot afford to incite mass panic. So everything will have to be done in secret and if you are as good as you say you are, avoiding the Turks won't be an issue."

"It is not the Turks I'm worried about; it is your friends. Once they know I am alive…"

Biting her lip, she pondered the wisdom of what she was about to suggest and decided to go ahead anyway. "If the Turks come for us, I'll pass you my PHS. There are two people I would call, if I were you. You can call Vincent Valentine. You can also call Cloud." She would have laughed at the look of incredulity on his face, except that that this was no laughing matter. "Cloud will understand, as will Vincent. At least they'll talk first and reach for their weapons later. I wouldn't bet on the others, as much as I respect them. Cloud or Vincent will help you find what it is you are looking for."

Her affection for Strife was clearly impairing her judgment. He didn't want to say so though and pretended to accept what she said. "Very well. But I do not like the idea of leaving you behind. I fail to see why we cannot leave together." He needed her to stay. The Ancient had said so and though he did not express it, he did not trust himself, not entirely. Having Tifa there would be a sort of safety measure, a net to stop him from crashing and taking everything down with him. She would talk to him, tell him difficult truths, nag at and fight with him.

She smiled weakly then. "Sephiroth, I'm willing to make this journey with you. But if Reeve reports me, the Turks find us and I run without turning myself in, then Shinra will—" Guilt gnawed at her and behind Sephiroth, she could almost see a disapproving Aerith shaking her head. A long time ago, she had lost everything because of this man. She finally had a place to call home again, the bar had been making money for the past year now and she could not bear the thought of Reeve breaking the news that she had gone rogue, not to the others who had become her makeshift family. It was too much, too fast to ask her to give up that much for him. In spite of Aerith, she was still scared and to be honest, somewhat resentful.

"Enough," he cut in, almost roughly. "I understand." She was risking a great deal for him. That in itself was a miracle. He could not expect her to outrightly defy Shinra; she would lose her home and be officially declared an enemy and traitor for helping him. Even if Tuesti tried to cover for her, it would be useless if she fought the Turks for his sake. If she turned herself in, she could at least lie that he had forced her into aiding him. Suddenly, the shadows that smudged the undersides of those vivid cinnamon eyes became prominent, as did the pallor of her skin. She had not slept in almost twenty-four hours. "Kalm it is then."

Tifa wondered if she should thank him, felt she ought to and decided it would be ridiculous to. After all, she had more to lose. He got on the bike behind her and she felt his hands on her waist again, something that was rapidly becoming familiar. 'Please Reeve,' she begged silently, prayed even. 'Please do as I ask.' If she was truly meant see this through to its end, things would just have to work themselves out. Somehow.

* * *

Rufus Shinra was a hell of a lot smarter than President Shinra had ever been. There was also, surprisingly, a core of morality and softness inside the man. It was well hidden, protected by layers of ruthlessness and cunning but there all the same. Unfortunately, it was not a quality that Reeve could count on at the moment. He remembered Tifa's words from her letter that was now a small pile of water logged ashes floating in the sewer pipes below the city. Then, the lift doors opened and he walked to Rufus' office, aware of the dark suited figures of two Turks in the waiting area. He had probably missed the other three or four who were hidden somewhere in this plush yet pristine island of stylish minimalism. The secretary smiled and ushered him in. He was one of the few who could walk in and see the President even without an appointment. When he stepped in, Rufus Shinra was looking out of the huge floor to ceiling window, staring down at the city that was slowly but surely coming back to life. It was a bad sign. Usually the workaholic President would be fielding calls and signing his way through a mountain of documents that had already been carefully read. Rufus Shinra had never been exposed to Mako in his life but he worked as though he was powered by it.

"Why did she want those documents?"

Behind him, Reeve felt a presence materialize and he did not have to look to know who it was. Tseng. There was hardly any point in feeling outraged about or demanding an explanation as to why the President had been eavesdropping on what—until now—had been Reeve's secure line.

"Cloud called."

"She did this for Strife?" Disbelief laced Rufus' voice. Finally, he swiveled his chair around to face Reeve from behind that massive mahogany desk. "Hasn't he been missing for months now?"

Reeve nodded. "The only way she agreed to help him was to force him to meet her if he wanted those files. She left Midgar this morning."

"I know that. I'm just curious as to why it took you so long to report to me."

Apparently the Turks were slipping. They had missed Sephiroth. Reeve could not stop the consternation that flashed across his face so he passed it off as outrage. "You spied on me? Of course I searched her house after she left. There wasn't anything useful."

Rufus' mouth stretched into a mirthless smile. "I was concerned for you." And then he dropped the act, no longer finding it amusing. "Is Strife unstable in some way?" So Cloud Strife had defeated Sephiroth. But he still bore Jenova cells in his genetic makeup and he had handed the Black Materia to Sephiroth. Rufus was not one to forget anyone's weakness.

Reeve sighed. "I don't know, she would not say. But if it really is something of significance, she will undoubtedly let us know."

"Us?"

It was Reeve's turn. "Whatever I know, you know," he said, taking a jab at his President.

This time, Rufus' smile was somewhat more sincere. "It's good you remember. You may leave."

As soon as Tuesti had left, Rufus turned to Tseng. "What do you think?"

"He is lying for Tifa Lockhart. I'm not sure about what though. It was hard to pick out."

"I'm not surprised." It was his way of letting Tseng knew he did not blame him. "He's had practice with my father and his two sycophants. Anyone who survived them would be an accomplished actor."

"Shall I track down Cloud?"

Rufus thought about it for a second before nodding. "Just observe him for the moment, when you do find him. If Strife is acting on behalf of Sephiroth," and even that was sufficient to draw a slight shudder from the President, "there's no chance of your men taking him down."

A lesser leader would have felt insulted by this accurate assessment of his men. Tseng was not the former; leaders like Rufus Shinra would prevent the unnecessary loss of bloodshed with their intelligence. "As you wish."

"If Lockhart is not with him or if it is apparent she has never contacted him, find Tuesti and do whatever you need to. I want the truth. If it's not too late by then."

That startled Tseng, just a fraction. After all, Reeve Tuesti was a good man. But Rufus had far more appreciation for men who fell in line with his agenda. With a slight bow, the leader of the Turks took his leave. Reno and Rude were going to be pissed but vacation time was over.

Back in the privacy of his apartment, and by now Reeve was understandably paranoid about how private it really was, he headed for the bathroom and turned on the faucets at full blast and maximum heat. When the bathroom was sufficiently covered with rolling white steam, he took out his phone and with grim satisfaction, took out the tiny card, which enabled him to hook up to Shinra's network, and slotted in a nondescript white one. A long time ago, AVALANCHE had set up their own pirate networks to evade the then President and some of these lines remained, undetected and largely unused. These were only limited to the areas of Midgar and Kalm. By putting this together with the letter, she was telling him where she would be headed next.

That in itself was a message that Reeve, no matter how hard he tried, could not ignore. It went to the heart of a friendship forged by facing calamities and he could not turn his back on her when she left hers open to him, trusting him to protect it yet willing to accept his decision, whatever it would be.

When the network signal came to life, he keyed in a number and typed out a message. Pressing hard on the 'send' button, he waited until the message was on its way before taking out the card. He would have to think very carefully about where he could hide this. Tseng was part bloodhound and his Turks very well trained. He could not afford to take any chances.

'Two months, Tifa. You'll get that or less, depending on how fast Tseng and his Turks work. And then by Gaia, you had better bring in Sephiroth or there will be hell to pay for.' If she did not, Rufus Shinra would personally string him up. What he would do before that though… that was not something Reeve wanted to think about at all.


End file.
